Loving an Ancient Man
by UnicornApocalypse
Summary: Meryl is in love with Vash.  Pretty obvious no?  Follow her thoughts about loving someone who doesn't love her back, who is nearly a hundred years old, and who's in love with a woman who's already dead. Oneshot. R


_A short little oneshot about Meryl and her love for Vash the Stampede. I combined a few elements of both the manga and the anime so if your a little confused that's probably why. Basically, Meryl knows more about Vash than she should during this time of the anime._

_I'm planning on writing Vash's thoughts during this scene so if you liked this then look for that as well._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, the characters, setting, etc. belong to Yasuhiro Nightow._

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~Loving an Ancient Man~

Meryl was sleeping. At least, she was supposed to be sleeping, but that wasn't the case. It was never the case. Ever since she had met him, Vash the Stampede, sleep had evaded her. However, the reason for her insomnia was always questionable, to her mind at least. She often blamed it on being too stressed and being overworked (which she was); always ignoring the former, a.k.a. love. Though, Wolfwood and Millie, her travelling companions, knew better than to believe her by now. Despite her constant protests.

The cold had seeped through the thin cotton blanket that covered her and sent violent shivers trickling down her spine. She stared at the rotting wooden roof of the deserted inn. She was analyzing it, debating whether it was better and safer to be inside or outside the building.

Another breeze drafted through the decaying wood. She trembled.

She turned her head slightly. Two shadows were revealed by the shifting moonlight.

Milly and Wolfwood were sleeping soundly next to each other on wooden cot not nearly large enough for the two of them. Millie was murmuring quietly, subconsciously snuggling closer to Wolfwood each time the wind cycled through the room.

Meryl envied them. She wished she could find the same comfort in someone as those two found in each other.

Actually, she did have someone in mind…

But he had loved someone long before Meryl came along and continued to love her even past her death. Which had been a long time considering how old Vash really was. How old was he again, a hundred something?

In his case, love really was eternal.

Meryl sighed. She needed to clear her head.

Slowly, she lifted her torso off the cot and flung her feet over the side of the bed. There was no noise considering all was lying on was another mere cotton blanket.

Her feet searched for her shoes. Finding them, she put them on and pulled a blanket over her head. Then crept out of the room, looking back for a moment, smiling as Millie continued her endearing ritual.

The inn creaked and moaned as she walked down the long hallway towards the exit.

Meryl grimaced. Why did they always have to stay in the creepiest places?

For once, just once, it would be nice to have a warm bed and sold walls. Somewhere that didn't smell of decay and wasn't infested with mice. But, this was what her work entailed. Why did she work again? Everything in her life was far too complicated.

She had finally reached the end of the hallway, walking into possibly once a welcoming and lively parlor. That world of innocence and happiness that once existed her was lost. In fact, it no longer existed for too many people on this sandy planet. The world's doom was slowly creeping closer each day. She could feel it. The planet could not continue with such limited resources and selfish people. Not to mention that once man desired the extermination of the human species.

She shook her head, casting aside the thought. She hadn't realized it till now, but her feet had somehow taken her outside without her knowing. She looked around, reorienting herself for a moment. A figure caught her eye.

Vash was dangling his feet, seated on the ridge of a small concrete building. He was gazing at the stars. He seemed to do that a lot, when he thought no one was looking.

"What could he be thinking about?" Meryl inquired silently. Although she knew better than to ask herself that question, nothing about Vash was ever comprehensible. She stared at his solemn expression. His, quite literally, angelic face sparkled for just a mere second. Her heart fluttered, he was crying, again.

She knew not the source of his pain but the grief, his grief, swelled inside her breast as if it were her own. She never could thoroughly understand the extent of this pain and yet she knew what he was feeling. Was this an unworldly bond formed by her love for him? Or was she simply feeling the loss of his heart to a woman of the dead. She liked to believe the former but the question never quitted her mind.

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